Sunday, August 20, 2017

I Step Out Of The House Into A David Lynch Film.


I haven’t been outdoors in some time for tiresome reasons. It’s already dark and snow is falling amidst the streetlights making everything seem a bit odd.

Needing the proximity of people I go to my local public house. It’s empty aside from the landlady and her tiny son who sits staring into a device of some sort and jumps and yelps strangely.

A man comes in.

The child jumps and yelps.

“Alright Tired?” He says.

“Are you well?” I say as a default. Fully aware, a split-second later, that his wife had recently died and I’d spent some time consoling his son on a similar subject a week ago.

“Oh, you know.” He shrugs.

The small child yelps and jumps. He has the face and gait of an adult man despite being about six years old. The place is silent otherwise.

I quickly begin to down my drink as an unfamiliar couple with a small dog enter. I just want to be somewhere else, go to the nearby ‘super’ market and return to the safety of my home. Rolling a cigarette, I go outside and am greeted by a regular with his own dog, which is adorned with LEDs.

We briefly say ‘hello’, I return to the bar to see the two dogs fighting – one of which is adorned with LEDs, the small child yelping and Whitney Houston wailing.

I finish my drink and touch the bereaved man on the arm as I put my empty glass on the bar.

“I meant to say that I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m pretty sure you’re sick of hearing it”

The child who looks like a man yelps and jumps.

“I am Tired, and thank you.” He says.

After negotiating the terrors of the bland super-market I make my way to the exit. I am stopped by a man a full foot shorter than me. I am not a tall man.

“How old are you? Fifty?” He asks.

It’s out of nowhere. I’ve not even raised my eyebrows at him. And I’m not bloody fifty.

“No. What? You?” I say.

“Me? No. I’m seventy. Going home. Read the paper [gesturing the morning newspaper] and that.”

He’s four-foot tall at best and is an old man in the body of a ten-year old. It is the strangest thing I have ever seen.

He turns and stares at the wall and does not move.

As I leave I glance back. He hasn’t moved and is still facing the wall.


Not for the first time, I vow never to leave my house again.

5 Comments:

Blogger wholelottarosie said...

Haha! Love this. Have you ever been to Loughborough? I play 'Spot the Normal' sometimes on my - somewhat dicey - walk to work. There are very, very few, let me tell you.

11:41 am  
Blogger Tired Dad said...

Hello Rosie and welcome. No, I don't know it but a knew a recovering heroin-user from there who was none-too complimentary about the town.

8:30 pm  
Blogger Hexen und Schnecken said...

Thanks for this. And do wish you'd write more often!

8:23 am  
Blogger Hexen und Schnecken said...

"I do wish" was what I wanted to say. Sorry.

8:24 am  
Blogger Tired Dad said...

Hello Hexen and welcome. I'll do my best.

9:56 pm  

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